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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959244">Letter Never Sent</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth'>Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Person, Gen, Letter, title is from a song I don’t remember</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:42:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,302</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth/pseuds/Teethteethteethteethteethteethteeth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Party Poison writes a letter, starts something bigger than they could have expected</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agent Cherri Cola &amp; Motorbaby | Grace (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul &amp; Jet Star &amp; Kobra Kid &amp; Motorbaby &amp; Party Poison (Danger Days)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hey. I’m sorry I have to write this, Motorbaby, and I’d rather I write it than I don’t. I’d hate to have to leave you without any</p><p>I’m sorry. Again. That’s a horrible way to start a letter, hm? All depressing and shit. I’m writing this letter to you in case. In case I die and you have to grow up without me. I’m sorry. </p><p>That’s no good, either. Kobra says I apologize too much. I think sometimes I don’t apologize enough, not for the real hard stuff. </p><p>Starting letters is hard, oh Girl. There’s so much I want to tell you and words just don’t work in the ways I want them to. So I’ll start this off by telling you how amazing you are. You’re a delight, Girlie, Motorbaby, Sparks. Watching you grow has been one of the greatest joys of my life, and there’s been quite a few great ‘joys in my life (see what I did there?). </p><p>So if I get ghosted, I’m sure the other three will continue to do a wonderful job raising you, and I’m sure you’ll turn out to be the brightest flame that’s ever dared to burn. </p><p>I’m just as sure I won’t be around to see it. Maybe it’s paranoia, maybe it’s intuition, maybe it’s the Witch, telling me, so I get the chance to write to you. I’m going to leave all my starts and stops, all my tear stains on the page, because I don’t want you to think you’re getting anything but the real, unedited me. I’m going to be more honest here, because I want you to know</p><p>No, that’s not right. I’m going to tell the truth here, only, so far as I understand it to be, because I want you to see the real side of me. I’m not being vain when I say people will misinterpret me, not bigheaded when I tell you I’ll be a story spun every which way but the way I intend it. That’s just how life is, being the face of a rebellion. </p><p>And I know you’ll face that tenfold. No matter how bright the four of us burn, you’ll eclipse us like the sun to a matchstick, the little girl who’s gonna save us all. It’s a huge burden to put on you, and I wish I could protect you from it. </p><p>There’s so much I wish I could protect you from, really, and that’s just not how life works. The second best I have to offer is to weather the storms with you, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that, either. Hence the letter. </p><p>Damn, I just said ‘hence’. The Batt City education really comes out when I write, I suppose. I hope you’ll forgive me. </p><p>There’s a lot I hope you’ll forgive me for. For making you grow up too early. For forgetting you don’t like your Power Pup heated up. For that one time I thought it’d be okay to give you, a four year old, a scorpion as a pet (thank fuck Kobra was there to stop me). </p><p>I don’t know where I’m going with this. There’s no wisdom for me to pass down to you (you’re head’s on better already than mine will ever be), there’s no secrets for me to impart (no important secrets, anyway— Jet’s candy stash is in the hole in the wall in the back room, and the only time I’ve seen Kobra cry is when they saw some baby snakes. They were too damn cute, apparently). </p><p>Maybe the best I can do with this is keep you company. Maybe you don’t want my company. But if you do, I’ll be here. I love you, Girl. I always have, and I always will. </p><p>Keep running.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To Dear The Girl,</p><p>I think that’s how you start letters? I’ve never written one before. No need to; everyone I’ve ever lived has always been within arm’s reach. Arms’ reach?</p><p>I found Poison’s letter to you, though. And if they think there’s a possibility they won’t be around to see you grow up? I might as well write one, too. Fuck, this is too formal. </p><p>What I want to tell you, is that I love you. Witch knows you’ll be tired of hearing it from me soon enough. But I never got that from my old family, not the ones that raised me, so I’d rather you here it too much than not at all. I love you. We all do. </p><p>Poison thinks you’ll save the world, I guess. And I don’t doubt that you can, but even if you never do anything worth shit, know that I love you, always. </p><p>Sincerely,<br/>The Kobra Kid.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hey</p><p>So, we’re writing letters to you. Kobra told me, and it seemed like a good idea. Just in case. I promise, this is a worst-case scenario letter. Twenty years from now I’ll pull it out and show it to you and we’ll laugh at how overdramatic this all was, thinking we wouldn’t be around to see you grow up. </p><p>But hey, it can’t hurt. Just in case. </p><p>I love you, Motorbaby. Always have, always will, even when I’m not around to say it, even when you don’t wanna hear it. </p><p>You know, the first time we saw you, I fucking cried. We were just kids, me, barely a year and a half out of the City, Kobra, only four years, and the others in between. It was scary, having a wholeass baby to take care of, but more than that, it was just so overwhelming to think, <em>we could do right by you</em>. We could raise you far away from white rooms and smiling watchers, and keep you fucking safe. </p><p>I hope we do. And I hope this life we’ve forced on you is better than the life that would’ve been forced on you in the City, you know? I hope a lot of things. I think that means there’s a better chance of some of them coming true. </p><p>I really, really hope, though, that you know how loved you are. May it never come to pass, each and every one of us would give our lives for you if the need arose, a thousand times over. </p><p>And maybe that’s a heavy note to end this on, but it’s the note I’m ending this on. </p><p>Keep running, my moon and sun,<br/>Jet Star</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’ve been putting off writing this letter a real long time, Girl. And that’s on me. </p><p>But I’m writing it now, and that’s what counts, yeah?</p><p>And maybe this is shit fucking advice, maybe it’s impossible, and please try not to grow up too fast, yeah? </p><p>I don’t know what else to say to you. The Desert makes you grow up too fast. It leaves you with nothing but regret. But it’s better than the City, and I know it won’t always be like this. </p><p>Hold on, motorbaby. It won’t always be like this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Girl, </p><p>I figure it’s time to give you these. You already know how it all went down— the Fabulous Killjoys all burnt up in a single clap, got ghosted trying to save you. The both of us were there that day. </p><p>And when it was all over, you’d run away, and the rest of us were left to pick up the pieces of the world gone and shattered. </p><p>We went to the Diner, first, both to look for you, and to gather up our fallen friends’ masks. We found three masks and these letters, instead. None of us suspected you were still in the Diner, not after we’d searched the place from top to bottom. You always were too good at hide-and-seek, huh?</p><p>But it’s time to give you the letters. I hope they help. </p><p>Love,<br/>Cherri Cola</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey I’m REALLY migraine-y right now so who even knows if this is coherent or what &lt;3<br/>Leave a comment below and find me on tumblr @wishiwasthemoon-tonight</p></blockquote></div></div>
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